The last week has been a real zoo…stomach virus, Triduum, no sleep for three nights out of four…so I haven’t done much writing in the last week. Today, however, I managed to put together two short story submissions.
It never ceases to amaze me how long it takes to get a submission ready—music, fiction or nonfiction. Even a query letter, for Heavens sake. First, get it written. (Weeks. Months.) Second: market research. (At least two full mornings. If you count the internet research, call it two full days.) Third: rewrite based on what you decide on market. (One day, usually.) Fourth: format submission (two days in and of itself, so far. Maybe that will shorten up as I get more experienced.)
Tomorrow’s task: the Post Office.
But tonight, I intended to write about Julianna’s development. In my kids’ scrapbooks, I do a series of 6 pages on their development through the first twelve months. There are 2-4 pictures per page and a lot of cramped writing, in which I detail ad nauseum every new skill.
However, Julianna’s first year ended before she did an awful lot of things that I am desperate to chronicle. So I think I’ll torture you all (however many or few of you there are) with them instead.
For instance, in the last couple of weeks, Julianna has become much harder to keep entertained. For a child with Down’s, she has always been interested in the world, but lately she demands to be entertained, her perspective changed; she demands interaction much more often and for longer periods of time. This afternoon, I had her on my hip as I was trying to do household tasks. I had forgotten doing that with Alex. He found it all incredibly interesting, when he was 8 months to…well, he still does; it’s just that now he can go pull a chair over and see what I’m doing for himself.
Today, Julianna lunged forward, wrapping both hands around the lip of the washing machine and resting her chin on them, as I added detergent to the washer and started the diapers. (Imagine having your head in *that* smell. Whew!) Tonight I sat down to read her one or two books—she sits with me all the time while I read to Alex, but those books are way over her head. So tonight I wanted to do it just for her. She shrieked when I set her down—she thought I was getting ready to leave her again. But when she saw the book, she settled down immediately. She lunged right and reached with her left hand to turn the pages of “I Am A Bunny” by Ole Risom/Richard Scarry. And then she was so mesmerized by “Brown Bear” that I had to keep reading. We went through 7 books before we quit.
I keep getting complacent, and forgetting that Julianna is moving beyond what Christian calls the “blob” stage. She’s so slow to move that I just forget, even though I know better.
And now it’s 9:08 p.m., and Christian and I have a date to practice flute and piano together, so I must quit without revising, or waxing eloquent anymore. Your loss. ;)
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Stirring up the pot for Holy Week
Last week, there was a big story (quickly shoved to second place by yet another sex scandal) about the Vatican “updating the seven deadly sins” for the modern age. I read the article from the first link I was sent, and then made the mistake of reading some of the comments. They were sarcastic, withering, and dismissive, and they came from atheists, Bible Christians and everyone in between.
I had to remind myself that the Catholic Church is a big target—the single biggest religious target out there. Still, it baffled me then, and it baffles me now, how anyone can object to what was published in L’Osservatore Romano. Bishop Gianfranco Girotti emphasized that sin is not just an offense between you and God; it has social and global ramifications. Who can argue with that?
The Church’s trouble is that its teachings, its structure, are very complex, and today’s world is all about oversimplification—about sound bytes. Facts are only significant in total context. They cannot be understood in a 7-second sound byte.
That’s not to say that the Church is perfect. It is a human institution, divinely inspired, but as long as people are involved, there will always be problems. But the nature of contemporary society is that you’re always making value judgments without knowing all the context. Even all the facts.
But what I love about my Church is the way that it is so radical in telling off both sides of the political spectrum. For instance:
--Genetic research. Abortion. Belittling the sexual act (by contraception, extra-marital sex, divorce)—the favorite targets of the right.
--Pollution. Greed. War.—the favorite targets of the left.
To the Church’s anti-religious detractors, I ask: Are not all human political and social issues based on a fundamental respect for the human person? Are not all those issues connected? Are they not, in fact, all the same issue? What in this list of sins do you see that is contrary to a fundamental respect for the human person?
To the Church’s fundamentalist Christian detractors, I ask: Which came first—the Church or the Bible? The stories in the Pentateuch were told around fires generation after generation before they were ever written down. Haven’t you ever played “telephone”? How can you espouse a word-for-word literal understanding of a book that has been translated from Hebrew to Greek, to Latin, to German, to English, to newer English, to newer English, and always by people with their own agendas and biases….need I go on? Tradition created the Bible. Inspired by God? Yes. True? Yes. But written word for word by a cosmic hand? No.
One last point to make. The article I read never listed the new seven deadly sins—my guess is because they knew the list hit too close to the mark. Instead, they finished up with a list of the original seven deadly sins “and their punishments,” drawn from “The Picture Book of Devils, Demons, and Witchcraft.” In some ways that offended me most of all. How was that even relevant? It only served to make the Church look ridiculous. It is as if there is a rule among journalists that no respect can be shown for an institution that does great good in the world.
And there I will stop for tonight.
I had to remind myself that the Catholic Church is a big target—the single biggest religious target out there. Still, it baffled me then, and it baffles me now, how anyone can object to what was published in L’Osservatore Romano. Bishop Gianfranco Girotti emphasized that sin is not just an offense between you and God; it has social and global ramifications. Who can argue with that?
The Church’s trouble is that its teachings, its structure, are very complex, and today’s world is all about oversimplification—about sound bytes. Facts are only significant in total context. They cannot be understood in a 7-second sound byte.
That’s not to say that the Church is perfect. It is a human institution, divinely inspired, but as long as people are involved, there will always be problems. But the nature of contemporary society is that you’re always making value judgments without knowing all the context. Even all the facts.
But what I love about my Church is the way that it is so radical in telling off both sides of the political spectrum. For instance:
--Genetic research. Abortion. Belittling the sexual act (by contraception, extra-marital sex, divorce)—the favorite targets of the right.
--Pollution. Greed. War.—the favorite targets of the left.
To the Church’s anti-religious detractors, I ask: Are not all human political and social issues based on a fundamental respect for the human person? Are not all those issues connected? Are they not, in fact, all the same issue? What in this list of sins do you see that is contrary to a fundamental respect for the human person?
To the Church’s fundamentalist Christian detractors, I ask: Which came first—the Church or the Bible? The stories in the Pentateuch were told around fires generation after generation before they were ever written down. Haven’t you ever played “telephone”? How can you espouse a word-for-word literal understanding of a book that has been translated from Hebrew to Greek, to Latin, to German, to English, to newer English, to newer English, and always by people with their own agendas and biases….need I go on? Tradition created the Bible. Inspired by God? Yes. True? Yes. But written word for word by a cosmic hand? No.
One last point to make. The article I read never listed the new seven deadly sins—my guess is because they knew the list hit too close to the mark. Instead, they finished up with a list of the original seven deadly sins “and their punishments,” drawn from “The Picture Book of Devils, Demons, and Witchcraft.” In some ways that offended me most of all. How was that even relevant? It only served to make the Church look ridiculous. It is as if there is a rule among journalists that no respect can be shown for an institution that does great good in the world.
And there I will stop for tonight.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Snapshot
When Julianna was born, it didn’t take long for us to understand that her development was going to lag, and that there was no way to predict by how much. Thirteen and a half months later, we still don’t have a very clear idea. However, I’d like to share with my family and friends what “developmental delays” mean for us.
I’ll start with Alex, because his development is like that of most other children. From the day he was born, he began changing. Changing the way he looked, the way he acted, the skills he was able to perform. I spent his babyhood expecting to see changes from week to week, and sometimes from day to day. He learned to sit up, and three days later he was pushing up into sitting. Crawling took a lot longer, but the minor steps on the way to crawling happened at regular intervals.
Today, that pattern continues. Every day he does something new, even if it’s as simple as picking up on one of Christian’s or my mannerisms. (“Awk!”, which I have come to realize is a supremely Midwestern corruption of the supremely German "Ach," is killingly funny, as is “That’s cool!”) Alex’s level of development, therefore, was and is a constantly shifting paradigm.
By contrast, Julianna has to be guided/manipulated/forced into every new thing—well, the major ones, at least. Once in a while she surprises me with some new skill or some new evidence of understanding—the most recent being the “honk the nose” game, which my dad invented when Alex was a baby. But basically, we have to take her to the next developmental level. We took her hand and guided it to the toys. Then we took her hand and guided it to the food—which she wasn’t looking at. Then we pounded on the tray to get her to look down. And even with those baby steps, it took months. If we don’t take the lead, she doesn’t particularly change at all. Until she does. There have been two times in her life when she suddenly did a whole bunch of developing all at once. Those are good times.
But in between, long months go by in which I am waiting for the next milestone… and she stays basically the same. It’s easy to take a snapshot and say that my 13-month-old is functioning at about an 8-month level. It’s much harder to communicate the experience of what those 13 months were like. At some point, my expectations shut down. Not entirely, of course. Gerti, our PT, tells me that I still have high expectations for Julianna—but to me, my expectations are so miniscule as to be not worth mentioning. They involve such basic things. Like being able to crawl, feed herself, and walk, so that we can try to have another baby.
It’s exhausting to spin out the implications. What if I forget to teach her something? Is she going to have the natural curiosity that allows Alex to rocket from one level of understanding to the next? My rational brain (objective) tells me that she will do it all, it’s just going to take longer.
My experiential self, however, sees an unending babyhood. It’s not that I don’t believe she’ll develop; it’s that I don’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s like being on a railroad track without a map, and you have no idea where the next station is, or how long it’s going to take to get there. And meanwhile, you can’t particularly do anything. You can’t get off, you can’t make plans for sightseeing at the other end—you just have to wait. And what happens when you need to use the bathroom???? :)
Anyway, on paper (or online) it looks very depressing. And I can’t deny that it is disheartening. But I’m not blogging to create a big pity party. Rather, I want to share the experience with my loved ones and anyone else who happens upon this, to give you some sort of idea, in the name of empathy.
Because she really is the sweetest part of my life.
I’ll start with Alex, because his development is like that of most other children. From the day he was born, he began changing. Changing the way he looked, the way he acted, the skills he was able to perform. I spent his babyhood expecting to see changes from week to week, and sometimes from day to day. He learned to sit up, and three days later he was pushing up into sitting. Crawling took a lot longer, but the minor steps on the way to crawling happened at regular intervals.
Today, that pattern continues. Every day he does something new, even if it’s as simple as picking up on one of Christian’s or my mannerisms. (“Awk!”, which I have come to realize is a supremely Midwestern corruption of the supremely German "Ach," is killingly funny, as is “That’s cool!”) Alex’s level of development, therefore, was and is a constantly shifting paradigm.
By contrast, Julianna has to be guided/manipulated/forced into every new thing—well, the major ones, at least. Once in a while she surprises me with some new skill or some new evidence of understanding—the most recent being the “honk the nose” game, which my dad invented when Alex was a baby. But basically, we have to take her to the next developmental level. We took her hand and guided it to the toys. Then we took her hand and guided it to the food—which she wasn’t looking at. Then we pounded on the tray to get her to look down. And even with those baby steps, it took months. If we don’t take the lead, she doesn’t particularly change at all. Until she does. There have been two times in her life when she suddenly did a whole bunch of developing all at once. Those are good times.
But in between, long months go by in which I am waiting for the next milestone… and she stays basically the same. It’s easy to take a snapshot and say that my 13-month-old is functioning at about an 8-month level. It’s much harder to communicate the experience of what those 13 months were like. At some point, my expectations shut down. Not entirely, of course. Gerti, our PT, tells me that I still have high expectations for Julianna—but to me, my expectations are so miniscule as to be not worth mentioning. They involve such basic things. Like being able to crawl, feed herself, and walk, so that we can try to have another baby.
It’s exhausting to spin out the implications. What if I forget to teach her something? Is she going to have the natural curiosity that allows Alex to rocket from one level of understanding to the next? My rational brain (objective) tells me that she will do it all, it’s just going to take longer.
My experiential self, however, sees an unending babyhood. It’s not that I don’t believe she’ll develop; it’s that I don’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s like being on a railroad track without a map, and you have no idea where the next station is, or how long it’s going to take to get there. And meanwhile, you can’t particularly do anything. You can’t get off, you can’t make plans for sightseeing at the other end—you just have to wait. And what happens when you need to use the bathroom???? :)
Anyway, on paper (or online) it looks very depressing. And I can’t deny that it is disheartening. But I’m not blogging to create a big pity party. Rather, I want to share the experience with my loved ones and anyone else who happens upon this, to give you some sort of idea, in the name of empathy.
Because she really is the sweetest part of my life.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Publicity, Round 2
This was posted this morning on the Columbia Daily Tribune website:
http://www.columbiatribune.com/2008/Mar/20080308Feat001.asp
http://www.columbiatribune.com/2008/Mar/20080308Feat001.asp
Monday, March 3, 2008
Baby/toddler moments du jour
Scene: Basi home. Alex comes up the stairs, burdened down by a drum (IOW, a Tinker Toy cannister.) He looks straight at me and says, "Mommy, are you gone?"
I look up from the computer. Eye contact. "No, honey, I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere tonight."
"Okay, I just wanted to make sure you weren't gone."
HAHAHA!
Scene: Morning, about 8:15 a.m. We are looking at the wedding album. "Who is that?"
"That's great-grandma Papadopoli," I say.
"Great-grandma Papawy Dapawy?"
Julianna is very giggly today. Have I ever mentioned that I am completely, hopelessly, helplessly addicted to her laugh? Especially since she guards her giggles. Alex has always been a laughy-taffy kid. Giggles at the drop of a... well, a pin head, much less a hat. So today, she giggles because I look funny when I'm feeding her. She giggles when I laugh. She giggles when I tickle or chew (and she is very chewy). She is reaching out and grabbing life by the bongos/Mardi Gras beads/ drums/scrap paper/brother. (She's very into noses at the moment.)
And she's stubborn as anything. She'll stand (knees locked), but she WILL NOT go on all fours. Steadfastly refuses.
Ah well, just a little slice of Basi life. I was reading over an NFP recertification course when Alex came to ask me if I was gone, and I had to stop and share.
I look up from the computer. Eye contact. "No, honey, I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere tonight."
"Okay, I just wanted to make sure you weren't gone."
HAHAHA!
Scene: Morning, about 8:15 a.m. We are looking at the wedding album. "Who is that?"
"That's great-grandma Papadopoli," I say.
"Great-grandma Papawy Dapawy?"
Julianna is very giggly today. Have I ever mentioned that I am completely, hopelessly, helplessly addicted to her laugh? Especially since she guards her giggles. Alex has always been a laughy-taffy kid. Giggles at the drop of a... well, a pin head, much less a hat. So today, she giggles because I look funny when I'm feeding her. She giggles when I laugh. She giggles when I tickle or chew (and she is very chewy). She is reaching out and grabbing life by the bongos/Mardi Gras beads/ drums/scrap paper/brother. (She's very into noses at the moment.)
And she's stubborn as anything. She'll stand (knees locked), but she WILL NOT go on all fours. Steadfastly refuses.
Ah well, just a little slice of Basi life. I was reading over an NFP recertification course when Alex came to ask me if I was gone, and I had to stop and share.
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